Lahat ng Kabanata ng Claimed By The Alpha Billionaire: Kabanata 161 - Kabanata 170

Sleep had become a stranger.Every time Aria closed her eyes, she saw the warehouse. The image wasn’t even one she’d witnessed — it was one her mind had pieced together from what she’d been told. Kieran chained in silver, his body scorched, the scent of blood and betrayal thick in the air.And Damien.Always Damien. That cruel, familiar grin burned into her memory.The packhouse had changed since that night. The tension was palpable, crawling through the halls like fog. Every creak of a floorboard, every howl from the training grounds made wolves lift their heads, listening for danger.Something was coming. They all felt it.Aria stood at the balcony of Kieran’s office, the earl

The wind howled across the cliffs like a warning, rattling the windows of the packhouse. By dawn, Black Moon territory was alive with tension—warriors armed and ready, witches weaving protection wards at the perimeter, scouts darting through the trees with grim faces. Everyone could feel it: the threat drawing closer, thick and heavy in the air.Aria hadn’t slept. She’d spent the entire night pacing the Luna’s quarters, the faint scent of Kieran still clinging to the sheets, his voice echoing in her mind. You’re my reason. It had been less than a day since he’d left, but already, the world felt off-kilter without him.Downstairs, the pack’s war room buzzed with quiet chaos. Maps, weapons, and scent trackers covered every surface. Rafe stood near the main table, barking orders into his earpiece while Thorne adjusted the layout of the sentry positions. Both men looked exhausted—dark circles under their eyes, should

The air around Aria trembled like the pause before a storm breaks. Dust and ash swirled at her feet, drawn toward her as if the world itself bowed to her rage. She didn’t feel human anymore—not even witch or Luna. She was something older, something primal.The power that tore through her veins wasn’t just magic. It was fury, love, desperation, and an ancient calling rising from her bloodline. She could hear faint echoes—the voices of the Original witches whispering through her mind, urging her to rise, to claim what was hers.Damien’s smug expression faltered as the ground under them began to pulse with light, glowing veins of silver spreading out like roots from Aria’s bare feet. His rogues hesitated, caught between obedience and terror. The scent of ozone filled the air.“Aria!” Rafe’s voice was raw as he cut down another rogue. “Whatever you’re doing, do it fast!”She coul

The dawn came too soon, bleeding soft light through the heavy curtains of Kieran’s study, but no one in the packhouse had slept. The night after Kieran’s return had been restless and tense, filled with the quiet hum of warriors preparing for something none of them dared name aloud—war.Aria stood at the long table with Rafe, Thorne, Mira, Miranda, and Victoria gathered around her. The map spread across the surface was riddled with red pins, each one marking rogue movements spotted along the northern borders. Every few minutes, another warrior came in, reported something grim, and left again, the air growing heavier with each word.Kieran sat at the head of the table, pale but alert, his jaw tight. The wounds had closed but still burned under the bandages. The silver left scars that refused to heal properly, an ugly reminder of how close he had come to dying. Yet he looked every bit the Alpha again, his authority rolling through the room like heat.

The estate was eerily silent when they returned.Kieran’s limp body had been carried between Rafe and Thorne, both men streaked with dirt and blood, their jaws tight and eyes rimmed with exhaustion. Aria walked beside them, her hand never leaving Kieran’s. His fingers were cold, his knuckles slack, but every now and then a flicker of warmth moved through the bond—proof he was still there, still fighting.Inside the manor, Mira and a team of healers were waiting. They’d already cleared one of the larger guest chambers, transforming it into a makeshift infirmary. The air was heavy with the scent of herbs and smoke. Bowls of glowing water lined the bedside table, faint blue runes carved into their surface to amplify healing spells.“Put him here,” Mira instructed briskly, pointing to the bed. She didn’t raise her voice, but everyone obeyed instantly. “Victoria, bring the tonic. Miranda, I need your hands.”